


Storms Rolling In

by Yunimori



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Drabble, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Medical Experimentation, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunimori/pseuds/Yunimori
Summary: BACKSTORY DRABBLE. Running away in the middle of the night had been a bad idea. It had been a spur of the moment idea, but still a very bad one. Shockwave hadn't even MEANT to run away, it had just...happened. Jhiaxus was not pleased with his son, and Shockwave knew it. This could only end badly. (PLEASE READ TAGS)





	Storms Rolling In

**Author's Note:**

> I'm copying all of my Shockwave and Optimus/Shockwave ficlets and drabbles from my tumblr accounts over to my ao3 account. Most of these are going to be incredibly short (hence the drabble tag), and either in short-form format or 100 Themes Challenge format.
> 
> This is just for my own peace of mind, making sure they are safe from tumblr's random purges.
> 
> However, feel free to read them and let me know if you enjoyed them!

His comm was going off in his pocket again. The ringtone – three bars from Troel’s _Rise from Death Mountain_ Overture– belonged to Jhiaxus, and at the moment, Shockwave didn’t…really want to talk to his father. Or to anyone, truth be told.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to be outside. It was late, it was dark, the curfew enforcement team would be out, and Shockwave was no more exempt from them than any ‘visible’ Outlier. He was a child, and would be taken to the nearest police station to wait on his father to come pick him up. He didn’t really want _that_, either.

So he kept to the shadows. Hid in alleyways, using his small size to let him remain behind dumpsters and shielded by stairwells. Muted his comm again, despite the anxiety that threatened to choke him when it went silent. He didn’t _ever_ not answer his father when he called. 

But Jhiaxus had locked him in his cell again, punishing him for an unknown reason. Left him there all day, until Shockwave was so thirsty that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Hunger he could deal with. He was used to going hungry; Jhiaxus took away his rations all the time, as punishment for misbehaving. Thirst was something Shockwave couldn’t quite deal with, though, and Jhiaxus hadn’t bothered to leave him with water. 

It was that thirst that drove him to try the door one last time. This time, it had opened, creaking open slowly and making Shockwave think his father was standing outside, just waiting on him to come out. 

The hallway had been dark, though. No one else lived in this side-hall, and the lights being off meant that Jhiaxus hadn’t passed by for a while; he was the only one with a broadcaster to make them come on at night when he was approaching. Shockwave wondered for a moment, staring out into the dark, but thirst overrode even that after a bit, and he’d slipped out, intending to just go to the kitchens and get a drink before dutifully going to bed. He was already in trouble, so staying up late was not something he planned on doing. It would only make Jhiaxus more irate with him, and Shockwave wanted to _pacify _his father, not cause more strife.

But Jhiaxus had been in the kitchens. Shockwave had heard him long before he saw him, and the small bot had been too startled by his father’s voice to even think. He just _ran_, hoping against hope that Jhiaxus hadn’t heard his footsteps. He was out the door, down the steps, and out the gate of the labs before he realized where he was, and by then, it was too late. Shockwave was outside, and sneaking _back_ would be harder than getting out, now that it was dark. 

And now that Jhiaxus was calling him, it meant that his leaving _had_ been discovered. Shockwave didn’t _dare_ answer. Didn’t dare go home. Really didn’t know if he could find his way back anyway, not in the dark, not without being _seen_. 

So, once more, he ran. Keeping to the alleys, the side streets, listening for the sound of footfalls coming his way and going in the opposite direction, until he wound up at the old playground. The one that no one ever seemed to come to. The one where he’d ripped one of his wings open when he was small, only to be told by his father that it was his own fault for having his wings out to begin with, so he could just bleed. He _knew better_. 

The slide still had a tower attached, and Shockwave was still small enough to fit under it, where the sand was piled up and the metal sides of the tower protected him from the chill of the night-time breezes. 

That’s where he slept, and that’s where Jhiaxus found him the next morning, while the musty-smelling fog that covered Iacon still hovered close to the ground, not burnt off by the sun just yet. 

Shockwave was awakened by his father hauling him out from under the slide by the wings, wrenching them painfully as Jhiaxus picked him up, shifting his grip to his son’s collar once he had a better hold on him. “Shockwave, _what are you doing out here?!”_

Still sleepy, but with his spark in his throat and folded-up wings already aching from the rough treatment, Shockwave could only stare dumbly at Jhiaxus, at the fury on his face, and could not answer. He _tried_, but no words would come.

If anything, that silence seemed to infuriate Jhiaxus more. “I swear, I regret _every thrice-damned day_ that I didn’t force you into being a girl. At least a _female_ would be more obedient, for all you’d still be _useless_ outside of studying your female characteristics_._” 

Shockwave flinched. He’d heard this lecture before. He was disobedient. He was useless. He should have been a girl, at least then he’d have _some_ small purpose. He was broken. He was an error, and Jhiaxus was disappointed in him yet again. “I’m…I’m…sorry.”

Jhiaxus went silent at the apology, lips thinning as he stared at his cowed son. In only a moment he was moving, tucking Shockwave under his arm like a sack to carry him home, not saying another word. The chill rolling off of him was colder than the early-morning fog, and it settled in the pit of Shockwave’s stomach like a bad bit of Synthergon. 

He didn’t say another word the entire way home. He remained passive, hanging under his father’s arm and listening for any tell-tale sign of Jhiaxus’ ire waning. There was no such luck. 

Once back at the lab, Jhiaxus took Shockwave straight to the nearest exam room, setting him down on the bed and forcing his son to stare him in the eye. “Stay there. Don’t _move_, or so help me, boy, I will make you _live_ to regret it.” 

Afraid of the tone, Shockwave obeyed, almost comically so. He sat in the position Jhiaxus had placed him in, only lowering his head once his father left the room. Other than that, he didn’t _dare_ move. Father had said to not, and with Shockwave trying very hard not to panic out loud over the _look in his father’s eyes_, there was safety in being literal. 

He hadn’t even twitched by the time Jhiaxus came back. Shockwave heard him enter, but didn’t look back up, afraid to, and afraid that calling attention to himself would induce his father to yell at him again. 

He didn’t need to do anything, though. Jhiaxus came up to him and put his hand on his shoulder, irritation in his voice. “Hold still. I’m running a diagnostic and giving you a booster. Primus only _knows_ what you picked up staying outside all night, and I’m cutting it off before any new virus has a chance to take root. I don’t have time to nurse you through being ill.”

Oh. That’s all he was doing. Perhaps he wasn’t as angry as Shockwave had thought, then, if Jhiaxus was giving him preventative care before sending him back to his cell. It made him look up slightly, a bit of hope on his face, but Jhiaxus moved out of view before Shockwave could get a look at his father. “I said _hold still.”  
_

He wouldn’t move again, then. Shockwave heard the diagnostic machine start up with a soft whine, making his insides turn over with an unreasonable, unexplained fear, but he held still, letting it scan. 

A sharp pain in his neck a moment later made him flinch, he couldn’t help it, but he caught sight of a hypodermic in his father’s hand a moment later, just before Jhiaxus threw the end in the biohazard containment box. _That’s the booster. _He really _was_ being given preventative care. “….does…d-d-does this m-m-mean you’re not mad a-a-at me, F-F-Father?” 

“Don’t stutter.” Jhiaxus’ reply was short, cutting off the hope in his son’s voice before it could take root. “Of course I’m angry at you. You _disobeyed me_. You left your cell, took off in the middle of the night, refused to answer my calls…I am _furious_ at you. But I also don’t have time to nurse a useless, sickly boy. So I am _stopping_ anything before it starts. Now be _quiet.”_

“Yes, F-Father. ….I-I’m s-s-sorry.” 

It wouldn’t be hard to be quiet, at least. He was quiet anyway, hiding the difficulty he had with words to please Jhiaxus. That and he was starting to feel oddly woozy, as though he’d stayed up all night again. Probably to be expected; sleeping on sand outside didn’t lend itself to a _good_ night’s sleep. Shockwave just hoped his father would let him rest a bit before doling out the day’s punishments.

That was the last thought he had before the sedatives Jhiaxus had injected in him took hold fully, toppling the delicate little flier over and forcing his father to catch him before he hit the floor. 

Without a word, Jhiaxus turned the diagnostic machine off, hefting his now-unconscious son over one shoulder and leaving the exam room, heading down the hallway to the stairs that led to the supposedly sealed-off basement, where his hidden lab waited. Perhaps _this_ time, since the diagnostics said Shockwave was already showing the first signs of dataflu, he could induce a virus that would make this troublesome child more obedient, more complacent, and at the same time alter his body to make him less of an eyesore, piggybacking his changes on the virus already making its way though his son’s body. 

Perhaps this time.


End file.
